


Civil Fulcrum

by liketolaugh



Series: Building Elysium [3]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen is a little ball of stress right now, Crying, Gen, Peacemaking, as in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: Allen is feeling the stress of his responsibilities, but that's nothing new. What's new is Wisely coming to talk to him, after everyone else has settled down for the day.





	

Nowadays, Allen spent the entire day in company. He woke up and had breakfast with the Earl and whoever was with him, checked up on each of the Noah and each of the exorcists, and he agreed to whatever outing or game or other social engagement he was invited to, whether it was an ominous game with Road and a beleaguered Tyki or an errand run with Miranda and Lulubell. Then when that was done, he’d go back into the Ark and break up brewing arguments, soothe tensions, talk to everyone he could and have lunch with a few. And then he’d attend dinner with the Earl and whoever wanted to join them, and then he’d return to his room and socialize for a while with whoever was there, whether it was Link temporarily released by Cross, or Cross himself, or Road deciding she hadn’t spent enough time with him that day.

It was wonderful, to have so much company, so many people who would, who wanted to, talk to him. It was amazing, to be able to spend as much time as he wanted around people who _liked_ him- who _loved_ him.

And it was _stressful._

Crying was Allen’s natural outlet; he’d cried often as a small child, and when he was with Mana, with Cross and with the Order. He cried when he was angry, when he was upset, when he was tired or anxious or stressed. Sometimes he even cried when he was happy, which Cross had an annoying tendency to laugh at him for.

But here, at least at the moment, that wasn’t an option. Tensions were high, and whatever else he may be, whatever other tentative connections may have been forged, Allen was still the only real, solid common element.

So when Allen started crying, things started going wrong. Timothy would get angry and accuse Tyki of upsetting him, or Mana would start crying too and upset the Noah enough for them to start picking fights, or Sheryl would fret and rant and panic Lavi enough to set off both Lenalee and Kanda, or _something._ And they would fight.

All that this meant was that Allen waited to cry until he was alone, in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep or when he returned to find his room empty, for once. Then Neah would go quiet, and Allen would let himself go.

Today, Allen had barely shut the door behind him before he was leaning against it and sliding to the ground. He took one shaky breath, then two, and reached up to press his palm against his forehead, feeling the unnatural stiffness of his hand even through the glove. Hot tears started to fall, unbidden and unresisted, and he struggled to stay quiet, worried that even now someone would come by and hear him.

Nothing hurt quite as much as talking to Mana… the Earl, did. And nothing made Allen feel as small or as selfish, either. Or as desperate, and pathetic, and needy-

A sharp rap on the door startled Allen out of his thoughts, and with a gasp, he scrambled to his feet, hurriedly wiping away the tears, leaving faint wet marks on his gloves. It took half a second for him to recompose himself, and then he reached out and opened the door, wondering wearily who’d come calling later than usual. Road, maybe, or Tyki or Kanda-

“Wisely?” he asked, surprised.

Wisely quirked an eyebrow at him, arms crossed and expression mild. “Allen,” he returned evenly, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “How are you this evening?”

Allen smiled. “Just fine. What brings you here? You don’t normally come by this late.”

Wisely half-shrugged, gaze strangely intense as he kept it on Allen. “Something I’d like to discuss with you, that’s all. May I come in?”

“Of course.” With a practiced gesture and another slight smile, Allen stepped aside and waved Wisely in.

Allen’s room had been made up as much with guests in mind as with his own preferences, if not more. It had a large lounge area, a smaller and more intimate table, a kitchen also filled with stools and a long counter, and other such arrangements.

Allen led Wisely to the lounge and sat on the end of a couch, while Wisely sat on the other end, already turning to face him. Allen turned aside to face him more fully as well, looking at him expectantly.

For a long moment, Wisely just studied him, and Allen’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

“I heard that you and Lavi have been getting along well,” Allen ventured at last, when Wisely made no move to speak first. Then, more sincerely, “Thank you for reaching out to him.”

Lavi had been one of the people he’d been most worried about, but he seemed to relax more around Wisely, and when he’d last been over he’d seemed happier, with more heart in his teasing and more honesty in his smile.

“Your eyes are red,” Wisely said, instead of replying, expression fully unreadable.

Allen’s hand traitorously twitched up slightly, as if to check, but he smiled bashfully instead. “Ah, how embarrassing. I think I might be catching some-”

“Allen,” Wisely interrupted, eyebrows raised and voice patient. “I’m a telepath, and I live with the Earl. I know when someone’s been crying.”

Allen didn’t let his smile falter, though he knew it had turned a little more plastic and awkward. “I do cry quite a lot for someone my age. Ask Kanda; I’m sure he’d be more than happy to complain about it at length.”

Now Wisely looked downright unimpressed, and Allen held his smile, struggling not to let his unease bloom. It wasn’t Wisely’s fault, really – it was more Allen’s, for being so intensely private.

“You spent some time with the Earl earlier, didn’t you?” Wisely prompted, placing one hand between them and leaning forward onto it, as if to intensify his gaze further. “How did that go?”

“Perfectly well,” Allen insisted, and did not think about laughter and dizzying happiness that died off into realization and failure, betrayal, hurt-

 _“Allen.”_ Wisely pinned him with a glare. “Even the _best_ of liars can’t lie to me.”

The itch of a memory in the back of Allen’s mind told him that it was true; no one lied to Wisely and truly expected to get away with it.

Allen blew out a breath and averted his gaze, focusing instead on the unlit fireplace taking up part of the wall. The mantle was decorated with pictures – pictures of the other exorcists, mostly, but a few of the Noah had begun to show up as well. There was one of Jasdevi leaning on either side of Lenalee, another of Tyki and Road posing for the camera, another of Mana beaming joyfully-

“Ah,” Wisely said, with damning satisfaction. “Yes, I thought that was the problem.”

“Hm?” Confused, Allen returned his gaze to Wisely, who had leaned back again, arms crossing.

“Neah,” Wisely said patiently, “that isn’t Mana.”

Allen stiffened up, taking in a sharp breath through his teeth and making a physical effort not to recoil as if he’d been dealt a blow. Why would Wisely…?

 _That was low,_ Neah murmured, a tickle in Allen’s thoughts. He sounded derisive and irritated.

Allen pressed a hand briefly to his forehead again and willed him away, and Neah grudgingly retreated. If nothing else, he was surprisingly good at respecting Allen’s privacy.

“Yes, I suppose it was,” Wisely agreed, and Allen removed his hand to give him a frustrated, questioning look. “But you see, of course, why you can’t keep calling the Earl by that name.”

Allen hissed, forcing his breath back out of his lungs and dropping his gaze to the cushion between them. Slowly, he made himself relax, and smiled faintly.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, I’m trying.” He tipped his head up a little to look at Wisely and softened his smile into something apologetic and wry. “It’s hard to remember sometimes.” They acted so alike.

“You can’t remember,” Wisely said sharply, “because you don’t _want to.”_

Allen’s smile fell. “Excuse me?”

“You _want_ him to be Mana,” Wisely accused, and it was hard to focus on anything but him, hard to look him in the eye but impossible to look away. “Far more, I might add, than he wants you to be Neah most days.”

Frustration and hurt, each as irrational as the other, made a tight ball in Allen’s chest, and he leaned back, giving Wisely a look that was maybe more defensive than was necessarily called for.

“I’m _trying!”_ Allen snapped, every line of his body going rigid. “I _know_ he isn’t Mana, I _know_ it hurts him when I think of him that way, I’m not trying to hurt him!” That was the last thing he wanted, but-

“Try _harder!”_ Wisely returned, without for a moment letting up on his glare.

Allen’s first exhale caught in his throat. The second came out too hard, the following breath in even worse.

The third was a sob.

It caught Allen off-guard, since he’d had absolutely no intention of crying in front of Wisely, but once he’d started he couldn’t stop. These weren’t the quiet, controlled tears he preferred, either – he was gasping for breath in between hitching whines and hiccups, withdrawing into himself as if that could hide him from the Noah on the other end of the couch.

He _was_ trying – he was trying as hard as he could. He was trying to keep everyone calm and happy, he was trying to make things easier on everyone, he was trying to get Lavi to feel more comfortable and Kanda to find at least one friend and Sheryl to feel included.

And he _wanted_ to be close to the Earl. He wanted to be a family agai- to be a family. He wanted to be able to receive love as freely as the Earl gave it, to give it back just as easily, and he _didn’t want to hurt him._

But he was tired, and he was stretched too thin, and he-

He missed Mana.

Wisely’s hand fell on his back and Allen jolted, but Wisely just started to rub gentle circles on it, quiet and suddenly not nearly as aggressive as he had been mere moments before. The epitome of patience.

He stayed until Allen finally settled down, face red and blotchy, breathing hard, and feeling far more tired than he had before he’d started.

More tired. But calmer.

Wisely waited for a few moments, still silent, and slowly, Allen’s thoughts settled down into exhausted silence as well. Then Wisely drew away again, to the previous distance, and said, almost casually, “Road thinks you’re doing very well, actually.”

“Huh?” Allen was startled again, looking up at Wisely, not bothering to hide the state of his face. It was a little late for that, anyway.

Wisely offered him a small smile. “She’s been keeping an eye on you two,” he explained. “Even after she stopped locking you in rooms together.”

Allen hadn’t realized that, though he probably should have. “I would have thought she’d take your side of things,” he admitted. Road and Wisely, more than any of the other Noah, hated to see the Earl hurt.

“Road knows a little something about missing people you used to know,” Wisely replied.

Allen started, and then processed the rest of it and glanced away, flushing pink. “I suppose she learned to do better,” he said after a moment, not looking at Wisely. Of course Wisely had heard.

“Eventually,” Wisely agreed. “It was a learning process, of course.”

Allen hummed a little in confusion. “I thought I just needed to do better? I mean, you were saying…”

“I thought you needed a kick in the arse,” Wisely allowed. Then he considered a moment, and then added, “And a good cry.”

Allen let his surprise turn his lips up in a half-smile. “I was getting to it,” he argued, and then let his smile fade. “What do you think I should do, then? I know he’s not Mana – when I’m away from him, I can even remember.” Usually. “But it’s different when I’m alone with him.”

Wisely frowned at him, clearly thinking, and for a moment Allen wished he had Wisely’s ability. A smile flickered across Wisely’s face. “No, you don’t,” Wisely said dryly, and then, “Try looking for the differences instead. There are some, you know.”

“There are some?” Allen echoed, surprise flashing through him. He hadn’t noticed any- but then again, what if he was having trouble remembering what Mana had been like, too? If he’d reduced the man, in his mind, to an idealization of himself, if- He cut the train of thought with a glance at Wisely, whose expression had changed into something almost awful, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll look.”

“I’m surprised you don’t resent that I’m here only for the Earl’s best interests,” Wisely noted, studying Allen with a frown.

“No, I…” Allen’s smile softened, and he didn’t bother hiding the terrible fondness that colored it. “It’s good that he has people to look after him. He’s not very good at it.”

Wisely smiled a little himself. “No, he’s not.” He shook his head and refocused on Allen, slightly more stern. “Which is why I won’t let him become a victim of your grief. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Allen knew – his grief had consumed much stronger things than the Earl’s mental health. “He won’t.” Allen wasn’t a kid anymore. Then, because he didn’t trust that anymore than Wisely would, “Let me know if I get out of line?”

“Obviously,” Wisely snorted. Allen smiled a little.

“Was that all you wanted, then?” he asked. “It’s getting rather late.”

Wisely considered him, apparently genuinely thinking about it. “You should say something if you’re feeling overwhelmed,” he said after a moment, frowning once again. “Everyone here _does_ care about you, you realize. It would be no good if you made yourself sick.”

Allen shook his head. “They trust me to handle this,” he explained, without saying anything about how much that trust meant to him. “And they’re getting better.” He smiled, warm and genuine, happiness stirring its way out from under the worry. “Lenalee spends a lot of her time with Jasdevi, and Lavi can sit at the same table as Sheryl now. Road pops in on the other exorcists almost as much as she does me, and… the Earl cares for everyone all the same. Wisely, it’s _working.”_

Wisely smiled, a little like he was humoring Allen, but certainly almost as pleased. “Yes, I suppose it is. Good to know that everyone’s peacemaking attempts haven’t come to nothing.”

“Everyone’s making an effort,” Allen agreed, satisfied, and realized that in stark contrast to earlier, his cheeks almost hurt from smiling.

Wisely hummed, and then said, “Still, don’t be afraid to take a moment to yourself if you need it. And I _will_ know if you need it. Even you can’t hide your thoughts from me.”

Allen’s smile took on a rueful tint, just for a moment. “But I _can_ direct them,” he threw back, but nodded anyway and bargained, “I will - when I can.”

“When you can,” Wisely acquiesced with a nod of his own, making to stand up, with the subtle implication that he was done here.

Allen relaxed and stood up with him, brushing off to avert his gaze a little. “You knew exactly what you wanted out of this encounter, didn’t you?” he commented wryly.

“What can I say?” Wisely countered, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. “We share much the same skillset.”

And Allen laughed, because he couldn’t really argue with that.


End file.
